


these violent delights

by thequeenwechose



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Dark Jon, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, HARD Enemies to Lovers tag, Jon is a true born son of Ned and Catelyn, No dragons here, Slow Burn, The Lannisters have no power except our favorite Hand Tyrion, The Starks are all gone, There is no Wall, the Westeros that you know and love with some slight Star Wars themes, this is a Rhaegar safe space, warrior Dany
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:20:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23938315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequeenwechose/pseuds/thequeenwechose
Summary: When threats arise in the North, King Rhaegar tasks his sister, the flaming sword wielding warrior Daenerys Targaryen, to defeat the crown's true enemy: the Night King and his notoriously cold-hearted apprentice, Jon Snow.
Relationships: Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen
Comments: 22
Kudos: 52





	these violent delights

Daenerys' sword belt hung low on her hips as she quickly raced through the crowded streets of King's Landing, her feet kicking up dust along the pathway. Sweat beaded above her brow, despite the white ravens arriving from the citadel that morning, the day was hot and dry and stinking of summer.

She, Jorah, Missandei and Grey Worm had been making their way to the tavern they'd been frequenting lately, when a crying little girl with matted blond hair ran up to them. She screamed that her brother was being hurt and begged for their help.

Despite Jorah warning that it could be a trap, and Missandei offering to handle it with Grey Worm, Daenerys could never turn away a child. Her brother would say it was her greatest weakness.

So there they were, blindly running as hard as they could to wherever or whatever this little girl was leading them into. Absurd as it was, it wouldn't be the first time Daenerys found herself forgoing a drink at the tavern to chase after a crying child. Perhaps she _should_ try turning them away once in a while.

Eventually, all the twists and turns and clusters of people gave way to an alley, where the scene unfolded before them.

There was a younger boy, who had be the girl's brother, with his arms being held behind his back by an older boy, while a third boy brutally punched his face and stomach.

The little girl screamed and cried once more at the sight of his blood and gruesomely beaten face, and Daenerys immediately moved her out of harm's way with a gentle push. Then she went for the boy throwing the blows while Grey Worm handled the other bully.

Daenerys quickly stepped in front of the girl's brother, and caught the boy's fist mid-air. He cried out in pain when she twisted his arm behind his back so hard the bones cracked loudly, jutting out of place.

“ _AAUGH fucking hell!”_

Grey Worm roughly grabbed the other boy, forcing him to release the girl's brother, and then shoved him to the ground at Daenerys' feet. He tried to scramble away, but Daenerys slammed her foot into his chest, pinning him there while he groaned in pain.

“Now, you boys know you can't be starting trouble in my city without my permission,” she quipped, not releasing either of them from her hold, “What's going on here?”

The girl's brother had flocked to her side when he was freed, and surprisingly, he could still speak, leaning on the younger girl. “It was the necklace, M'Lady, they nicked it from us.” He spat out a mouthful of blood and a couple of teeth landed wetly in the dirt as well.

“She's not your Lady, she's your Princess,” Jorah sternly warned despite the boy's obviously compromised state.

“Begging your pardon, Princess,” he apologized and Daenerys gave him a short nod of clemency.

“I'm Jacke, Your Grace, and my sister is Emely.” He went on through shaky, shallow breaths. “I gave her a silver necklace for her name day and these two took it right off her neck. I didn't steal it neither, I've got a job in the tanners shop that don't pay much. I've been lookin' after our family since our Pa died. I gave every cent I had for that necklace, so I wasn't lettin' these two snatchers run off with it!”

The other boys started spewing out protests, “Liar! He's a stealer! Lying gutter rat! He stole the necklace!”

They strained against Daenerys' hold on them, so she tightened her grip on the boy's arm and dug the heel of her boot into the other's chest, inducing cries of pain from them both.

“Mercy please, Your Grace!” They begged, but Daenerys refused to let up.

“The cost of thievery is a hand,” she seethed through clenched teeth, “Do you know what that means? You steal a necklace from a little girl, and in return, I start cutting pieces off you until I feel the debt is paid. Does that sound like a fair exchange to you?”

“No, please! Mercy, Your Grace!” one of them begged while the other yelped, “We won't do anymore stealin' we swear it!” Then suddenly the silver necklace came flying out from the mess of their thrashing limbs and landed in the dirt.

Daenerys closed her grip on the two of them impossibly tight, and they whimpered as she gave them a final warning in a lowered voice, “You'd be wise to remember.”

She untwisted the boy's arm, causing the bones to pop violently again as they realigned. He hissed in pain and ran off nursing the injury, while the other boy scurried around on the ground before climbing to his feet and taking off after him.

Daenerys retrieved the necklace and dusted off the tiny silver pendant on her trousers, silently hoping to herself that the boys kept their word. If they didn't, she would ruefully have to follow through with her own words, and she found cutting off young boy's hands to be somewhat barbaric, among other things.

“Thank you, Princess, thank you,” the little girl, Emely, rubbed away the tears glistening on her cheeks.

Daenerys knelt in front of her at eye level. “Emely, you did the right thing by getting help,” she placed the necklace over Emely's head, draping it around her neck. “Brothers take care of their sisters, but you looked out for your brother today.”

Emely smiled shyly, and the way she hid behind her brother's leg filled Daenerys with fondness, reminiscent of the days when she would do the same with her own brother. Those were simpler times, when she believed that cowering behind Rhaegar would somehow protect her from all harm, as if he were a safehold against the entire world.

Gone were those times, she'd long since cast aside her brother's cage and become her own shelter.

“I'll be thanking the Mother for you as long as I live, Your Grace, I swear it.” The boy, Jacke, gave her a slight bow as best as he could manage in his injured state.

Daenerys rose to her feet and regarded him for a moment with her lips pursed. “You're a brave boy... and a fool.”

He slowly looked up at her and the confused and somewhat hurt look in his bruised eyes drew her sympathy.

Gently, she placed her hand on his shoulder. “The reward of being a hero is nothing compared to the price. Your sister needs you more than she'll ever need a necklace. Don't trade your life for less than its worth.”

Jacke's expression was conflicted before it grew into acceptance and Daenerys understood. She'd been given the same advice countless times before. Of course, with her being the one chasing after every criminal in the street despite the danger posed. Just as Jacke had his sister to look after, Daenerys had her people to protect. Sometimes the risk was worth the reward, sometimes it wasn't.

She gave Jacke's shoulder a reassuring squeeze and smiled down at Emely once more before speaking to Grey Worm. “ _Torgo Nudho_ , get some men from the City Watch here for these two. On my orders, Jacke's wounds are to be tended to and they're both to be fed and safely returned to their mother.”

The children gave her one lasting look of gratitude as they were lead away by Grey Worm.

“Now,” Daenerys dusted off her hands, “Which way is the tavern?”

-

Inside was no cooler than the day but still a reprieve from the sun. The ale was chilled and more bitter by the hour. If she were back home in Essos, Daenerys would have preferred a spiced summer wine, but she was in the Seven Kingdoms now, the land of black beer and pigeon pie.

Swirling around the dark contents of the ale horn, she strongly reconsidered her commitment of only dining like the common people in her travels. It was far easier when she was having honeyfingers in Tyrosh.

“Did you mean it?” Jorah leaned closer from where he sat next to her at the table.

Daenerys took a break from precariously eyeing her beverage, “Mean what?”

“You said King's Landing was your city. We've been back for weeks and that's the first time you've claimed it.”

Missandei and Grey Worm's eyes landed on Daenerys from across the table. She could have grimaced at the implications of Jorah's words the same way she had the bitterness of the ale.

“It's mine to protect as long as we're here, but King's Landing is not my home, not since I was a child.” She said resolutely. “Essos is my home. My people are waiting for me there and I _will_ return to them the moment Rhaegar grants me leave.”

She felt Jorah's old eyes land on her, questioning. “Your Grace, may I speak freely?”

Daenerys swirled her drink, “Go on.”

“When your brother sent you away to Essos...” Jorah trailed off, wary of Daenerys' reaction to the subject, but pushed on in any case, “It was never meant for you to stay there forever. He wanted to end the war you started in Slaver's Bay with the Masters. Forgive me, Princess, he won't permit you to leave again.”

Daenerys took a long breath. Her eyes went from the floor of the tavern, to those of Missandei and Grey Worm, and she thought of the very ones that also awaited her in Essos... enslaved, starved and desperate for freedom. Then the words came as natural to her as wielding her sword.

“I _will_ finished what I started in Slaver's Bay. The Stormbred was just the beginning. They'll see... when I return.” A small determined smirk came to her lips when she spoke of her army that she freed and then united to bring with her to the Seven Kingdoms. “ _Rhaegar_ will see, whether he permits it or not.”

She pushed the ale horn away.

“King's Landing is not my home.”

-

After a while, Daenerys no longer went unnoticed in the tavern. It wasn't uncommon for her to travel the streets and visit the local places. But the people of King's Landing weren't accustomed to the casual presence of a royal family member, apart from her brother's occasional whim to go out and sing to them.

Back home, her people grew used to having her among them, but of course, she wasn't the younger sister of the King in Essos. There, she was the Commander of the Stormbred, leader of the war against the masters... Here, she was the silver haired Targaryen Princess that lived a life of savagery in exile, notoriously unlike a Lady.

Daenerys had garnered most of the attention in the tavern. Jorah sat close to her, always cautious around strangers. Grey Worm's hand rested close to his weapon, while Missandei seemed unwary but Daenerys could see the slight rigid line of her posture beneath her light armor.

The tavern singers resorted to all but serenading them. Singing exaggerated tales of the sword wielding Princess, walking through fire and slaying ancient beasts. They called her Lady Dragonknight and the Sword of the Maiden, after one of their Seven. It was meant mockingly of course, as Rhaegar was already known as the Sword of the Warrior, and her ancestor Prince Aemon was the Dragonknight.

Daenerys quite liked it actually. She wasn't a proper western Lady, nor would she ever be or want to be. It pleased her that the people were well aware, despite how they regarded her for it. Still, being the center of a spectacle while simply trying to have a drink in a tavern grew bothersome.

“Careful, I wouldn't toy with Lady Dragonknight.”

Daenerys knew who those suggestive words and sly tone belonged to before she even looked up to see Daario now sat on the edge of their table.

“She bites,” he smirked at Daenerys as he spoke to the tavern singer. “Now, any one of us at this table could behead you with a blunt fingernail. So, best go on before we lose our manners.”

Normally Daenerys would reprimand his sharp tongue but his empty threats cleared out the crowd.

“That hasn't seemed to discourage you.” She feigned admonishment despite her relief.

“I enjoy a woman with a bite to her.” Daario smirked, seeing through her thin resolve.

Jorah grew irritated at the crude mannered Tyroshi. “Do you ever tire of foolery?”

“I never tire of anything, old Andal, just ask the Princess.”

Daenerys bit back a grin at his brashness in favor of a mild scowl. “Enough, Daario. I've already half the mind to let Jorah split you in half. Speak plainly and tell me why you're here.”

Daario made no attempt to hid his smirk. “Small council meeting. I'm going to escort you.”

“I'm not a member of the small council,” Daenerys waved him off, “And I certainly don't need an escort, never mind you.”

Missandei relaxed the rigid line in her posture and leaned in to to say, “You'd be better off a mule or a pig, either would smell better.”

Daenerys smirked then as well.

“Though that might be true,” Daario winked and Missandei responded with a slight scowl, “I think you may want to attend this one anyway.”

“What is it you know?” Daenerys eyed him curiously.

Daario savored the fact that he held something over her. “After spending weeks in this miserable country, I've come to know that there's only one interesting thing about it,” he grinned, “The North, wild and unbridled and swarming with creatures that stalk the night.”

Daenerys could have rolled her eyes but instead she lowered them, uninterested with the old fables of the north. The tales of the Lands of Always Winter and the original Black Banners had always been a bore. “The Night's Watch, you mean. I have no interest in rangers who nest in the dark like crows to frighten children.”

“Neither did I,” Daario went on, “Until a little bird told me that your brother hasn't been very generous in giving you all the details.”

Daenerys recollected the spymaster they called the Spider and his so called little birds immediately and knew that he was loyal to her brother and no one else, let alone Daario Naharis.

“Lord Varys serves the crown. You expect that I believe he's betrayed Rhaegar's confidence, risked his position and his _life_ to tell you, a lowly foreign sellsword, of my brother's apparent deceit.. Why?”

Daario sported his slyest smirk and reached for Daenerys' discarded ale horn, “Well being such a _lowly_ man allows me to pursue my greatest talents in the world.. fighting and women. I visit the taverns nightly, I drink, I whore, then I break a finger or two and it turns out I also have a real talent for overhearing things I shouldn't.” He held the wooden mug to his lips. “The eunuch sees the value in my talent and now he is in my debt.”

This was no news to Daenerys. She'd known that since they arrived at the shores of White Harbor that Daario was ambitious. He'd spared no expense or moral while attempting to weasel into nobles inner circle. He was indeed a lowly man and Daenerys was unsure if that was to her advantage.

“Go on, then, and Daario,” she demanded, “Spare me _your_ details in favor of my brother's.”

He took a swig of her bitter ale. “As my Princess commands.” He belched. “Turns out the Night's Watch isn't just a band of moon worshipers. They've mobilized the North into an army. Their foot soldiers have been spotted raiding villages as far south as the Neck.”

This was news to Daenerys. “They've never strayed so far from Castle Black before, why now?”

“Gathering recruits.” He replied, wiping his mouth with his sleeve and then leaning in, taking a serious tone. “The ranger leading them is the one they call the Stranger's Bastard and he isn't exactly asking men nicely to join them. Word is that Jon Snow only offers one choice. The first man to refuse him is always the last.”

Daenerys felt her expression harden at the mention of his name. “Jon _Stark_ , you mean. The only one left besides Benjen.” She'd only been back in King's Landing for a short while but that was knowledge familiar to anyone. Why her brother insisted upon letting a Night's Watch deserter, a _bloodtraitor_ like Benjen, into his ranks was beyond her. “What does he want anyway?”

Daario shook his head as if she were miles beside the point. “He's not a Stark anymore, he's called himself Snow since the massacre at Winterfell, which the entire north now blames your family for.”

It was almost an instinct to pull her sword and cut him down right there. “No one knows who killed the Starks,” she sharply reminded him. Just the mention of the massacre after so many years of being away from it all nearly sent her into a rage, but she restrained herself nonetheless. “So he's formed the Night's Watch into a northern army.. where does he plan on marching it?”

Daario shrugged as if it were obvious, “Wherever the Night King tells him, I imagine, he's the apprentice.”

Daenerys felt Jorah go rigid next to her and she shot him a look, brow furrowed “Night King...”

Jorah shook his head, averting her gaze with his eyes downcast.

Daario sat her empty ale horn down on the tabletop with a light thump, drawing her attention.

“Seems like your brother was more than scant with the details,” he said in an inauspicious tone that implied so much more.

Daenerys stared hard at the table for a moment, trying to gather her thoughts and emotions into one. Not knowing if she should believe her brother was hiding things of such importance from _her_ , a seasoned warrior, a tried and tested commander, a bloody _leader_ who's proved herself time and time again... and if he was.. Why?

“What reason would Rhaegar have to keep all of this from me?” she shot the question at Daario, the one dredging all this up.

“Your Grace,” Jorah desperately chimed in, “We can't make assumptions based on the word of an imbecile—”

“You're his little sister.” Daario interrupted, ignoring the ensuing scowl from the Andal, “He's protecting you from Jon Snow and the Night's Watch, just like he's protecting you from the war you started in Essos.”

Heat stirred from the pit of Daenerys' stomach in the way she had tried to avoid when Jorah brought up the subject. Rhaegar had summoned _her_ to King's Landing in the midst of the conflict between slaves and slavers in Essos that _she_ led and was capable of winning. Now he's brought her here and is keeping her away from a potential threat against his own people that she could help resolve. As if he were protecting her.. as if she were the child hiding behind his legs once again.

“Varys' spies have reports of the Night's Watch's next movements, that's what the small council meeting is about.” Daario went on, leaning in and stared directly into her eyes with his next proposition, “So, do you want to spend your days chasing petty thieves in the streets, or do you want to face a real threat and go hunting for crows.”

Daenerys paused for a moment, looking around at Jorah then Missandei and Grey Worm. She found herself thinking of the children in Slaver's Bay, with collars around their necks and the scars of lashes on their backs. She thought of Missandei after she had been freed, wearing her painted butterfly armor as if she'd never been stripped of it, and Grey Worm choosing to keep his name that once carried so much strife and bringing new meaning to it.

She knew that her entire purpose was returning to Essos, to the thousands of children living in chains.. but as of now, she was in Westeros, the land of her birth and the home of her blood family. A duty was owed here at least, if not the same sense of obligation she felt in her true home land.

She thought of the little girl Emely and her brother Jacke, possibly scrounging for crumbs in the street after their father had been killed in a battle caused by one king or another, or in a conflict waged on a side that they could never win. She thought of other children doing the same, or those who would be living that nightmare in the future.

Only a moment, and Daenerys was up and headed toward the exit.

Her company immediately jumped to clamor after her.

Jorah was in a panic, “Princess, may I ask where you're going?”

Daenerys steeled herself at the tavern door, “To the small council meeting. To show my brother I'm not the one who needs protecting,” she said, reaching a determined hand toward the latch, “ _Then_ I'm going to kill some crows.”


End file.
